


a sculpture, the sculpted

by regicides



Series: s'apprivoiser [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Body Image, Body Worship, M/M, Shame, prose fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 13:18:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11487204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regicides/pseuds/regicides
Summary: "You're beautiful",When Kakashi speaks it is low, a murmur.(it is meant to be reassuring)Internally, Obito laughs.





	a sculpture, the sculpted

****

“You’re beautiful”, Kakashi says,

 

        this simple string of words:

        the sound of it, the shape taken on  – molded to him

                feels like he’s being carved into  _ Being _ . Again

He remembers the wet feel of clay 

ancient fingers  –  precise  –, calculated stitching  

incompatible flesh and glaze 

and, “You will have to relearn how to walk, Obito”

        Madara sculpted him into existence but  –

_         he never showed me how to become a monster _

                 I did that myself.

Kakashi drags his fingers into the concave of Obito’s face.

“These are new”, he doesn’t say.

_         they’re not new.  _ _ you buried me in that cave so i could be reborn in another.  _ _ open casket rubble fucking funeral, i gave you my eye and i got these scars in exchange. you played your own part in the creation of this new me, Kakashi. you did. you did. _

“When you smile your lips tremble with the effort of it all. When you smile it looks like a goddamn grimace.”,

Kakashi does not say this.

        but, Sharingan red, he sees Obito think it.

“You’re beautiful”, Kakashi’s palm is pressed into Obito’s chest. Bruising,

his hair is tickling at Obito’s face. it grazes his scars, soft.

When Kakashi speaks it is low, a murmur.

_         it is meant to be reassuring. _

Internally, Obito laughs.

He remembers dampness and darkness,

shit jokes

and, “We can help you get out of here, Obito.”

Obito hears Kakashi swallow, sees it in the movement of his throat.

They watch each other, soundlessly cataloguing flesh, heat, pressure.

        Kakashi’s body is lithe, 

        laid atop of Obito it spans the length of him  –

        encompasses him.

It is dark in this room but Obito looks up, sees:

reflection;

sees:

himself in another’s eye.

sees:

another in his own eye.

He remembers his third birth:

Not as an Uchiha  –

he is not of his mother, not of Madara

not of clan.

just, “I’m in Hell”

_         it’s like trying to climb out of an endless goddamn pit _

        a cave or a another cave or an unfathomable grey space where he only lives by intermittence, in bodily fragments. 

        warped space, time, existence  –

        there is something beautiful in knowing that Kakashi has been there too.

        this time, in this room where they are anchored, there is no blood no debris no dust no uncertainty

        just  –

        a light in Kakashi’s stolen eye.

Twin Mangekyo swirling, they are joined.

Kakashi rakes his fingers alongside the unnatural whiteness of Obito’s side  –

        of reconstructed body

        and artificial flesh.

_         shouldn’t be alive shouldn’t be walking _

_         rubble fucking funeral. _

_         should’ve buried me _

****  
  


He remembers a battlefield:

an amassing of corpses, bodies strewn,

the sudden expansion  –

and loss

of his own plural form

and, “You are only one thing to me: Madara”

****  
  


        fifteen years he has had no name and 

here Kakashi is

        feeding him memories: bright and happy and

touching him.

all of him.

_maybe_ _i am Madara’s creation but_

_         i am my own monster _

He will remember this:

touch

and, “You’re beautiful”

“I will put you back together”, Kakashi does not say.

_         he does not need to. _

Obito knows that neither of them can ever be whole  –

Stolen eye for stolen eye;

parallel mirrors.

        a sculptor and the sculpted both

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this piece this way -- fragmented and spaced out as it is, I mean -- because, to me, the blank space acts as a buffer for Obito's shame and his reluctance to being touched in the way that such a touch, for him, circles back to his...."making", so to say? The various spacing all tie back to a specific space-time and, over the course of the piece I tried to make it so they blend together and we see the development of Kakashi and Obito's relationship (or, rather, TBH, Obito's relationship /to/ Kakashi) /through/ this typography.....I hope this was clear and if not, well...I hope y'all liked it anyway lmao I love obito so much i could die


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